


The Ache Behind Your Eyes

by OfPiercingStaresAndStars



Series: Dragon Age Rambles [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Haven (Dragon Age), Headaches & Migraines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfPiercingStaresAndStars/pseuds/OfPiercingStaresAndStars
Summary: His head hurts, which makes sense, as one would think the Herald of Andraste gets headaches often. Dealing with the needs of others, the talk behind his back, the arguments the war council brings about. Don't get him wrong, it definitely gets on his nerves. But the thing is, he constantly has this buzzing behind his eyes. It's faint, barely there when he wakes and grows stronger as he goes about the day........Maker did it hurt. Adan better have something on hand or he was gonna combust.
Series: Dragon Age Rambles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015675
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	The Ache Behind Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing fanfiction. So I thought I'd start off small. Not Beta'd or anything.

His head hurts, which makes sense, as one would think the Herald of Andraste gets headaches often. Dealing with the needs of others, the talk behind his back, the arguments the war council brings about. Don't get him wrong, it definitely gets on his nerves. But the thing is, he constantly has this buzzing behind his eyes. It's faint, barely there when he wakes and grows stronger as he goes about the day.

It connects to the mark on his hand, that didn't take long for him to figure that out. For one, his eyes are green when they used to be brown. They glow faintly in the dark, like the mark. The big thing is when the Breach pulses, his mark flares up, and suddenly his head hurts like a motherfucker.

At first he would simply deal with the pain, not wanting to show any weakness as the whole world scrutinizes the newly formed inquisition. Until it got a little too much for him to bear…

"Herald?" There it was, a title given to him without his input. A title that held so much weight, another title he needed to live up to. He didn't deserve it. No one deserved such reverence and fear as a simple way to greet them. "I hope we're not boring you," Leliana speaks up, her Orlesian accent making it seem like she was teasing.

"Ah, no I... sorry." He manages to grunt out, words failing to pierce through his aching skull. "Head hurts." His deep voice rings out in the old chantry, eyes peeling open after realizing he had closed them. The phantom sound of popping making him wince. 

He looks over at the spymaster, then to the others around him. His vision blurring at the corners. But even the concern on their faces isn't hard to notice under the haze. "Perhaps you should go see Adan at the apothecary, he might have a potion or some slave to help soothe such a pain." Josephine smiles softly, always a kind smile that one. 

"The Requisition Officer could order something as well, if that doesn't work out." Cullen interjects, though it sounds more stern than anything. Which makes sense, as they were just discussing whether or not to side with the mages or the templars. And boy did they discuss quite… heatedly.

He hears Cassandra sigh loudly right next to him. The shake of her head clear even as she's just out of his peripheral. "Then we should reconvene later. Think on what has been discussed," 

Trevelyan doesn't respond to them, simply giving them a curt nod as he turns around and exits the war room. He would be remembered as a man of few words, he realized then. There would be rumors of why. Did he not know what to say? Or did he feel as though there was a place and time for such interactions?

Both would be correct, in their own right. Some things didn't warrant a response, others required something more than he could come up with on the spot. That's why he preferred to write out his words. Or draw what he couldn't express in the written language. He had journals filled to the brim with sketches and poems. Most of them were at his home in Ostwick. The most recent one destroyed in the explosion at the conclave. 

Now he couldn't even begin to write on a stray piece of paper. The blank page screaming at him, making him grimace and look away. Maker did it hurt. Adan better have something on hand or he was gonna combust. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like it!


End file.
